


Whatever For Once

by LittleRedRidingHood



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Justice League of America (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Bruce Feels, Bruce is a sad puppy, Clara Kent - Freeform, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Clark, Fluff, Genderbending, Hurt/Comfort, I mean I wrote this shit, I swear to God, Plot Bunny, Rule 63, TOO MUCH FLUFF I'M GONNA DIEEEEEEEEE, Vacation, clara is there for him, fucking hell, how can I not fucking summarize it, seriously it wouldn't go away, why do I suck this much at writing the fucking summary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:30:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRedRidingHood/pseuds/LittleRedRidingHood
Summary: The heroes of the Justice League had decided to take the weekend off and relax. And everybody should be having fun, right? Yeah, no. Apparently not Bruce. And he’s acting even stranger and crankier that the usual, which is definitely a hard feat to put up with.
So, the question is, can Clara find out what’s wrong with her grumpy Bat and comfort him?
(01.06.2017 -Minor Edits)





	

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hellooooo, people!!! So, this plot bunny just... wouldn't go away but it really took me some time to finish it. The school and the homework is wearing me thin… *hello darkness, my old friend…*
> 
> OK, so, this little piece was supposed to be some Hurt/Comfort with gentle Fluff but it just… exploded and wrote itself, I swear to God. 
> 
> Also, a fun fact, this thing was supposed to be named ‘Beautiful Scars’ but then I realized just how much I used ‘whatever’, so I thought, what the hell? 
> 
> Anyway, after this uninteresting author note… let’s just get going, shall we?
> 
> AN 2: Jesus fucking Christ, it even took me longer (about 3 months) to find enough time to fucking edit this thing! How's this even life, guys? *sobs over the corner for her lost youth*

The members of the Justice League were comrades, allies, colleagues and friends. They were also like a one big family –containing aliens, Amazons, meta-humans, cyborgs, androids and all kinds of heroes- and it didn’t matter whether they were inside or outside the Watchtower. And obviously, whether that grumpy-ass Bat kept denying it or not, they all knew that he enjoyed being a part of this family just as much as they did.

So when they planned to take the weekend off, relax and have some fun, of course they agreed to do it together –well, at least some of them did. The world still needed to be looked after for. The remaining heroes in the Watchtower promised to notify them should an alien invasion or something even worse to occur.

But until that happened, they were in a vacation, far away from the civilization, in a tropical island with a beautiful beach and dream-like seas.

And naturally, they needed secrecy and solitude, since all of them had alter egos to maintain. 

So the Batman just _had to_ buy that island.

Well, _whatever…_

They would have more fun that way.

Apparently everyone agreed on that thought –except for Bruce. _Obviously._

Bruce Wayne was sitting on the white chaise longue placed under the large beach umbrella, hidden away from the sun and the others, with the black sunglasses and that permanent Bat-scowl firmly planted on his handsome face. He was wearing a short-sleeved black t-shirt and a pair of black slacks and no shoes -contrary to everybody else. But no one even dared to ask why, since he could kill all of them with a single glare.

_‘They’re acting like children,’_ he thought angrily. _‘There’s nobody but us in at least four hundred miles, but we could still be exposed. And what will happen then? Oh, that’s right, Batman would have to save all of their asses. But does anybody even think of that? No, of course not. God, what have I gotten myself into by getting associated with these… people?’_

His thoughts got interrupted by a drop-dead gorgeous woman with otherworldly blue eyes, black hair, impossibly long legs and a smile brighter than the sun itself, walking up to him with calm and large strides.

“Are you planning to sit under the shadows and pout all day?” asked Clara, with an amused and teasing voice. She had her hair up in Clara Kent’s usual messy bun but the glasses were nowhere to be seen. She was wearing nothing but a pair of white bikinis, which didn’t show too much but left too little to imagine. (Okay, yes, Bruce was a possessive, jealous bastard over _someone like Clara._ So what? Sue him, he’d probably buy your lawyers. Not that he cared. _Whatever.)_ It was also successfully emphasizing her amazing figure and her muscles along with her flawless, sun-kissed skin, and her body was shining with the water droplets. She was a total of six feet, made of perfection.

Bruce scowled harder. “I understand that you’re… _relaxing,_ but do you have to use your powers in a simple volleyball game?”

Clara made a shocked face and her hand flew to her chest. “It is not just a simple volleyball game, Bruce!” she exclaimed. “It’s girls versus boys and that’s very _serious!”_

Bruce rolled his steely blue eyes, knowing that Clara could see them behind the black lenses. “All of you save the planet on a weekly basis. Stop acting like kids.”

“Well, the kids of the League keep saving the world on a weekly basis too, so…”

“Stop being smart and sassy with me, Kent!”

Clara laughed with that laugh which could melt the whole Arctic and leaned down to peck him on the cheek. “Why don’t you join us, Bruce?”

“I don’t like to play volleyball.”

“So what, if we played something else, you would come?”

“…No.”

This time Clara rolled her eyes. “How shocking.”

Bruce ignored her sarcastic comment. “You shouldn’t use your powers this actively. You’re making a lot of voice and leaving unexplainable holes in the ground.”

“Well, this is your island, isn’t it? No one would question it.”

“Maybe, but what if-”

“Bruce,” Clara butted in. “Please. We all came here to relax and be reckless for once, y’know. And that includes you too. So you don’t like volleyball, which I totally think is bull, but you could at least come to the beach. The water is so blue and perfect, and the sand is incredibly soft. Seize the moment for once.”

Clara’s pleading voice was making Bruce have second thoughts. And he almost decided to leave his shadows, as well. He could join his friends and Clara and just relax but… No, he had to keep watch for them, in any case. He was the vigilant one. He was Batman, always prepared, always on watch, always on defense.

But he didn’t want to make Clara sad, either.

So he let his face soften, took off the sunglasses, grabbed Clara’s long and slender fingered hands and planted a kiss to each one of them. “I know you worry about me, Clara, but don’t. I’m fine. You know that I just…”

“Don’t like to be around people? I know.” Her voice was still teasing but it held no accusation or judgement. Of course Clara knew him, how couldn’t she? He always took responsibilities for others, always isolated himself to make sure that everyone was safe and sound, but he never cared if he was okay as well. As much as Clara admired his selflessness –whether it be in situations like this, or the money he gave to the charities as a billionaire businessman, or the nights he spent to make Gotham better and safer- it always worried her just as much, if not more. “Bruce, I just want you to know that it’s alright to let go sometimes. You should relax once in a while, too. And I’ll always worry about you, you know that.” She squeezed his hands once. “I’m not gonna push you. But I hope you know that this won’t be the last time I would try to persuade you, in case you change your mind and feel too stubborn to admit that you’d like to join us.” 

She leaned down to kiss his cheek again, then turned her back and walked to the lower side of the beach.

Bruce silently sighed. He often wondered how in the hell was he blessed with someone as caring and loving as Clara, but he never found an answer. He knew that Clara had realized something deeper was lying under his scowls and snarls, but like the angel she was, she hadn’t pushed him.

He wanted to tell her the real reason behind his petty arguments –he really did- but even after all those years… He still didn’t know how. Not that Clara hadn’t made him better about talking with people, because she had, and judging by the smiles on his boys’ faces and that pleased twinkling in Alfred’s eyes, he knew they were both making progress.

But still… it didn’t feel easy to talk with anyone about himself or his feelings.

He nodded to himself. He was going to make it up to Clara. Even though she liked sweet kisses and soft caresses, Bruce knew for a fact that he could always tempt her into series of intense love-making sessions in _his fucking island._ Or just take her to the Manor and spend the next week with her. Her boss, Perry White, was a possible obstacle on his plan, but it wouldn’t matter either. After all, _he owned the fucking newspaper_ in the first place –just as a romantic gesture to his lover. Not that Clara had appreciated it when she found out, he still remembered how pissed she was and how she kept saying that it wasn’t ethical to date with her technical boss. Imagine how she had been after he told her that he’d also bought her apartment for safety measures.

Yeah.

_Whatever._

God, he was spending too much time with his teenage kids and with people who _acted_ like kids.

He turned his head towards the people and watched as how all of them were just happy and laughing. He shook his head. Clara was one of the few people who actually knew him. And she thought that even though he choose to be alone, he still felt alone in his eternal patrol –which wasn’t untrue entirely, but there was something else. 

When he was alone, he could watch the way his friends smiled, laughed, played and teased each other. When he was alone, he could practically carve the small amount of happy moments they had to his mind, like a perfect photo, with all the details still intact after decades. When he was alone, he could feel like he could have that moments just to himself.

When he was alone, nobody would _ever_ see that content smile on his face.

\----

Clara threw the white ball to the air and then hit it with a strength that made a sound which kept echoing through the mountains behind them. Naturally –as if in a battle field- her friend, her honorary sister, Princess Diana shot up to the sky and caught it. Diana was making a gorgeous contrast against bright blue of the skies with her blood red bikinis, and she knew it. She swung her body as she passed the ball to Mera with almost equal strength, making her long black hair sway as well.

Then the red headed woman, Mera –Queen Mera actually- jumped impressively high from where she was standing inside the water, light blue swimsuit almost mixing with the water itself, and smashed the ball across the water. 

The ball was falling down like a crashed meteor, and in seconds it was going to land inside the water… but then Barry, a.k.a. Flash, with his fiery (literally, the fire design had cracked everybody up for at least 10 minutes) swim trunks and messed up blond hair, ran over the water with his super-speed, caught it and passed it to Arthur. And of course, the blond king of Atlantis caught the ball easily and sent it up for Hal to catch. 

As the ball flew towards his head, J’onn simply bowed his head and watched –because he was told that as referee, he was not supposed to interfere with the ball and watch the two teams closely.

Hal had somehow managed to make the ring work while keeping the uniform from automatically appearing. He flew with his green swim shorts and winked at his boyfriend Barry every now and then. That was why he ignored Barry shouting like his trunks was on fire (LOL) and also missed the ball coming to his direction. And the poor ball sunk into the water with a giant _splash_. Hal looked at his boyfriend with a sheepish expression and try to look innocent. Damn, his boyfriend was _hot_ when he was shouting.

Victor shook his head fondly and smiled at his air-headed, flirty friend’s actions, as he worked on his latest device, a prototype for the S.T.A.R. Labs –Hal was really hopeless.

Objectively speaking, it was a miracle that the ball survived this long as this was how a volleyball match happened between the members of the Justice League.

When Hal came back to his senses and finally realized that they lost, he looked at the three incredibly hot women hug each other with the joyful cries of victory and pouted. “Come on!” he whined. “How is this fair? They have super-strength and super-speed and they can fly and run and –and…” A slight pause. Then he exclaimed again. _“COME ON!_ It’s so _not fair!”_

“C’mon, Hal, they’ve won, fair and square,” said Arthur calmly, as he made his way towards his wife who had a smug smirk across her beautiful face. 

Hal was still murmuring about how it wasn’t fair when he heard his boyfriend saying, “Don’t be such a sore loser, Jordan,” with that teasing voice.

“I am not! It’s just…”

“Not fair?” Barry whispered and hugged him from behind, sending a shiver up in Hal’s spine.

“Yeah…”

“Yeah, right. It was totally their fault that you were too busy flirting with me.”

Hal couldn’t find an answer that was good enough. He was far too distracted. So he settled for, “Like you didn’t like it.”

Barry laughed against his neck. “I sure as well did, babe. But we should get going and join the others. Though I promise that you can show me the things you’ve said before, after we go home tonight.” He kissed Hal’s neck and untangled himself to join the others.

“Bartholomew Henry Allen, _you giant ass,_ I’m so gonna get you for leaving me like this!”

He heard Barry laughing loudly at him but he knew he couldn’t do anything. Not now, anyway. Well, he’d have to deal with that boner before he joined the others. A dip in the chilly water of the ocean was in order, apparently.

They all swam, including J’onn, which was a huge deal, even though he made himself look like a random human, and Victor, who had managed to modify the robot parts of his body to be waterproof. Then they played, shouted, danced, buried each other in the sand, swam again, ate and just had fun but Bruce only joined them twice –to eat something and drink water. Nobody dared to question it –not even Hal- because they were afraid of the reaction they’d get but also they could see the hidden worry Clara had.

Clara had tried to talk to him again several times, but each time, Bruce promised that he was okay and gently dismissed her. And each time Clara felt horrible by not being able to convince him and leaving him behind. She was seriously having a hard time having fun, but if she showed that to anyone else, they would feel bad too, and she didn’t want to spoil anybody else’s fun –or Bruce’s solitude. Diana had noticed one of her sad looks once, and she had only patted her shoulder sympathetically. 

Well, at least Bruce was sleeping from time to time. She tried to convince herself that the only way Bruce ever relaxed was when he was asleep, so it was still okay for him to not join them. The girls had helped her to shut the boys up at those rare times Bruce's heartbeats had slowed down.

Around noon, M’gann, J’onn’s niece, called him to help her with a _‘human thing’_ , so J’onn left the island, despite his niece’s apologizes that she didn’t know he was on a vacation.

When the sun was down to the horizon and the skies were painted with soft orange and shades of light purple, they decided they were tired and wanted to have a quiet moment –of course, not that Clara or Barry was tired, but they agreed to sit down with their friends. So they settled down to the soft sands and grouped into pairs, though they were still close enough to everybody else, as well. Clara felt a soft smile take over her face when she felt that Bruce quietly came up to her and sat down next to her.

Clara had made a small fire with her eyes with the branches Victor and Diana had gathered from the woods and Hal had put a slow song up in his iPod, so it was even better. Everybody was just sitting there and watching the sunset with their respectable partners and friends.

Clara and Bruce were a little farther from the others. They were huddled together closely –Clara was leaning against Bruce’s strong chest and Bruce had an arm around her slim waist- as they sat with their backs against a rock. Clara had her navy blue t-shirt and white shorts back on and Bruce was still wearing his t-shirt and pants. Clara had wondered about Bruce’s choice of clothing whole day, too, but she still couldn’t figure out why.

At first she’d thought that the reason he wasn’t swimming with the rest of them was because he was keeping watch (and brooding). But when she kept a close eye on him, she realized he hadn’t even entered the water or taken his clothes off. So the only logical conclusion she could reach was that he was somehow afraid of the water –which she had really contemplated before accepting it- so she had gave him the space he wanted.

But her curiosity had gotten the best of her and she finally decided to ask.

“Bruce?” she said quietly.

“Hm?”

“Can I… can I ask you something?”

“Would it matter if I say no?”

“No.”

Bruce snorted. “Then by all means, shoot.”

Clara took a breath. “Why haven’t you swam all day or didn’t even come near the water? Is it… is it because you are… afraid?”

Clara could hear the silent chuckles vibrating through his broad chest. “Only you would reach to that conclusion, you silly, mild-mannered farm girl.”

Clara looked up and frowned at him. “What are you not telling me, Bruce? I thought we no longer kept secrets from each other.”

Bruce let out a prolonged sigh before nudging Clara to sit straight, and slowly pulled one of the legs of his slack up, revealing muscle mass enough to make a professional boxer cry, and a messy collection of silver scars.

But Clara frowned deeper and looked at Bruce’s handsome face, trying to understand. “Why are you showing me these? I’ve seen every single scar you have on your body countless times before.”

Bruce pulled the fabric down and sighed again. He looked at Clara’s honestly confused face with blue and heavy eyes. Then he slowly started talking. “It’s… not about that.”

“Then what is it about?”

“Clara, I know that you don’t mind my scars, but… I do. They remind me how… human I am among the rest of you. I don’t like them and I never wanted them. So I don’t like to show everyone else something I’m… not comfortable with. And well, they _are_ ugly, so…”

Clara felt a sudden surge of complicated emotions within her. At first, she felt warmness and pride with how easily Bruce was opening up to her and telling her about something he wasn’t comfortable with anyone else. It made her giddy all over.

But then she felt outrageous shock and sadness. As Batman, of course he wore a full-body armor to protect himself, but sometimes the hard Kevlar didn’t work. So Clara knew that in his ‘Brucie’ persona, he would generally wear smart suits that covered all of his body and when he needed to accept a pool party invitation or something that would leave him relatively naked, him and Alfred would paint his body with water-proof concealers. He’d rarely let anyone else see him naked but Clara never thought it was because he had been feeling… self-conscious. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the playboy billionaire mask was just a mask.

But no matter what, thinking that any part of Bruce was ugly, was unacceptable in her eyes and she was determined to show him that.

So Clara grabbed his also scared and calloused but strong hands gently and looked at him with fierce determination, looked at his broad but hunched shoulders, his intense, steely blue eyes, black and wavy hair, long lashes, strong jawline and delicious looking lips –and for a moment, it was just the two of them, everything else was forgotten. Bright and inhumane blue was looking into clouded but warm blue.

“Listen to me, Bruce Wayne. No part of you, no matter what, could be ugly or unwanted to me. And please get this into your stubborn skull, because I don’t think it’s humanly possible for someone else to see you as anything but beautiful, too. Actually I would prefer it better if nobody else even looked at your direction but… yeah. Besides, the others, they are all your friends, practically your family, Bruce, and nobody judges anybody amongst the family.

“Yes, bruises and scars are usually interpreted as a bad thing, but it’s only because they remind me the times you were hurt or I wasn’t there to help you. Or like that one time you took a kryptonite bullet for me –which I’m still pissed at you, by the way. It was incredibly stupid.”

Bruce didn’t make a comment on anything else she’d said, but only shook his head and said, “And how many times did you take a bullet for me over the years, Girl Scout?”

“Bullets don’t affect me, it’s totally different Bruce.”

“No, it isn’t, it’s the logic behind it-”

“It totally is different and not the topic right now, so don’t try to change the subject.” Clara looked at Bruce’s still unhappy face once again and her scolding expression softened. “Besides, everybody here thinks that the scars are badass, including me. So on that scale, it makes you the _badassest_ person around and nothing could change that.”

Bruce lifted his head up from the ground and looked at the sunset and didn’t answer for a second. And in that second, Clara was totally mesmerized by just looking at his softly illuminated features. Bruce was truly _beautiful._

“You know that it’s not a word, right Kala?” Bruce asked, his face didn't betray his serious expression but amusement was clear in his voice.

Clara shrugged childishly. _“Whatever.”_ Then she reached out and gently cupped his cheek and softly stroked his sharp cheekbone, her voice was even softer now. “Also, scars are either lessons or signs of victory to us. They either teach us how to be smarter and better next time or they tell us that we’ve made it out of another battle, another victory, another case closed with justice.” She watched as he turned his head to look at her. He looked really… down and Clara wanted to wipe that expression from his face. And after spending all those years with Bruce, she knew that if she wanted to make him understand something, she needed to express it with her words -or actions, but at the moment, those weren't really needed. She also knew that it was her who generally talked in their relationship, and that Bruce didn't actually mind it. So she continued.

“And well, actually everyone here has scars. For example, Barry. He has this huge graze on his back as a gift from one of Captain Boomerang’s carving boomerangs. And even though Hal has his uniform, he still gets bruises –so does Arthur and Mera, despite their generally invincible Atlantean skins. Victor’s whole body is scarred and his real flesh can still have scars too. And Diana has a deep cut across her hip that Cheetah left, and she says she’s wearing it proudly. I actually don’t know about J’onn, and even though I think he might have some bruises too, I’m just passing him.” She paused for a moment, then took her hand away from Bruce’s cheek and grabbed his hands once more. “Look, Bruce, I’m not trying to push you to do anything, but you don’t have to dislike your scars. Because they mean that you have some awesome stories to tell like everyone else, human or not.”

Bruce didn’t answer immediately, but Clara could see that he was thinking. After ten seconds, he asked, “Then what about you?”

“What?”

“You can’t scar.”

Clara smiled sort of sheepishly. “Do you have any kryptonite with you?”

Bruce frowned confusedly but pointed to the farthest point of the beach, where a big black bag was standing next to Bruce’s personal chaise lounge. It took Clara only three seconds to grab it and come back to Bruce. The others noticed the movement on their side but didn’t say anything.

Bruce opened the bag, found the little side pocket and took the little lead-lined box out. He gave it to Clara but much to his confusion and surprise Clara opened the little box and took out the green glowing alien rock.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” asked Bruce, his voice full of controlled alarm.

Clara blocked the hands trying to take the kryptonite from her and smiled ruefully, despite the weakening effects of the rock. “Shh, just… look, okay?”

She didn’t give Bruce a chance to object and tugged the collar of her t-shirt down slightly, and get the kryptonite even closer to her skin, an almost soundless groan ripping itself away from her throat. The rock glowed bright green on her skin and suddenly, lightened with the green gleam, over her collarbone, a gash appeared.

Bruce saw red and reacted almost instinctively, because as a Kryptonian, Clara wasn’t supped to scar, at all, and seeing a flaw against her flawless skin made Bruce’s throat tighten with anger. “When did this happen? Who did it? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Clara laughed fondly at Bruce’s protectiveness. “Do you tell me every time you get a scar?”

“No, because you can see them.”

A pause. “Yeah, well, let me have my little victories.”

Bruce gritted his teeth at her careless attitude. “Kala, just answer the fucking question! Who did it?”

Clara sighed. “Who do you think?”

“Luthor,” Bruce hissed.

Clara let out a troubled breath. “It happened four days ago, on that showdown with Lex in Metropolis. Apparently, he had gotten his hands on another chunk of kryptonite and Metallo was helping him. He grazed me with it and a small part of it –really small, about a speck of dust- got stuck inside. The people on the med bay of the Watchtower did the best they could, even Zatanna helped. They finally managed to find it but it took them sometime, so by the time they were done, the cells over there were already too damaged to heal themselves. They still react to the kryptonite and it takes them around four hours until they go passive –and until the scar fades. It never seemed like a good time to tell you, because as you know, after that I went to an off-planet mission for three days. And also, I didn’t want to have you shout and yell crankily in my ear whole the time, so…” she paused for a second and laughed at the complicated expression on Bruce’s face. “It’s okay though. Now I have a story to tell, too.”

Bruce still had this contained anger on his eyes, but there was something more. There was concern, worry and unwelcomed fear –and all of them were too shocking and unexpected to him. Clara could also see the silent question in those deep, blue eyes. _‘Does it hurt?’_

“It doesn’t hurt, Bruce, not at all. The skin there will just look like this occasionally from now on, that’s all.”

Bruce didn’t seem pleased, satisfied or calmed down by that answer. So he tentatively reached out with his finger but still didn’t dared to touch the scar, as if he was really afraid he would hurt her and as if asking for permission. So Clara just smiled slightly and nodded. Bruce finally made contact and brushed his fingers gingerly against the gash.

But with each brush, he looked like _he_ was the one in pain and Clara hated to see that look on his face –whether it was caused by concern or not. So she reached out and cupped his face, tilting it up and making him look at her face. “Bruce, I know that you’re mulling this over, as you do with everything else but please, don’t. I’m fine. And it’ll sound kinda cruel but I think now you understand how I feel every time I have to see you get injured.”

Eyes focusing on Clara’s beautiful face, plush lips, that fallen lock against her forehead and gorgeous blue eyes, Bruce thought the things they’ve felt could never be the same, that she’d never understand how he felt. Because seeing someone who wasn’t supposed to get scarred have scars was worrying him, and also… scaring him.

Yet at that moment, he also realized he cared so much about someone, that he would die without hesitation for not to see them get hurt, ever again. They were together for years, and he consciously knew that this wasn’t breaking news, but the revelation still had him unprepared. It should’ve also scared him, but strangely, it didn’t. 

But of course, Bruce didn't tell any of this to Clara.

Instead he gently wrapped his arm around her and pulled her against his chest again. Clara obliged contently, hugged his waist and snuggled to him. The simple but elegant silver ring Bruce gave him five years ago was shining proudly on her left ring finger. Bruce pulled her tighter to himself while his own engagement ring gleamed with the flickers coming from the fire, as if showing off and informing the whole world of the night Clara said ‘yes’ to his proposal five years ago.

They held each other for comfort, for warmth, for they simply _can,_ and they needed no words to do so.

When the sun had set completely and the moon started to show its pale, white face, the members of the League started to get up and pack their stuff or change into their suits behind the rocks –or in Hal’s case, in front of everyone.

“What?” he asked innocently. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“You may not have, Jordan, but we don’t need to see your ass crack,” said Arthur with a deadpanned voice and hugged Mera closer to himself. “So, don’t you even dare.”

“Yeah, and we do not need a mental breakdown, either,” agreed Diana. 

Victor was also nodding but it looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“I don’t know,” butted in Barry. “I think it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Everybody cracked up at Barry’s nonchalance and Hal’s attempts at suggestive faces.

“You are not ready yet, Kala,” noticed Diana, as she approached her friend. “Are you not leaving?”

“No, I think we’ll stay here a little longer. I’m still tired from the off-planet mission and I don’t want to fly for a while.”

“Wow, then you really must be tired,” said Diana, surprised. “Well, give me a call if you need anything, sister.”

Clara nodded and smiled gratefully. “Of course, Diana.”

After good evenings were bidden, everyone but Clara and Bruce was flying towards the sky and away from the island, except Barry, who was being carried in a green bubble with Hal. Clara decided that those two were definitely gonna have a talk tonight.

She snickered to herself, until someone hugged her from behind.

“So,” started Bruce, as he buried his face on her neck. “We’re not leaving.”

“Nope.”

“Are we staying in our bungalow on the island or should I get the Batwing ready?”

“Nope, we’re not doing either,” she said, with a teasing voice.

Bruce felt himself smirk against her skin, he loved it when she was dominant and controlling. “Really, now? Then why are we here?”

She untangled herself away from him and took of her t-shirt with one swift move. “Why, we’ll be swimming, of course!”

Judging from his face, Clara could tell Bruce wasn’t exactly expecting this.

“I don’t know, Clara…”

“C’mon, there’s no one else here but me! Besides, I don’t think you’ll mind having me here with you after a decade, hm?”

Clara wrapped her long and strong arms around his waist, as they stood almost at the same height, Bruce being a couple of inches taller. Then she saw the still-present, doubtful look in his eyes and decided to back off and give him an opening. “You still don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Bruce. Hell, if you want, you can stay in your clothes too, but please, will you swim with me? Just this once. I still want you to enjoy the water.”

Her voice wasn’t accusing a bit, she was only trying to comfort him. If he said no, he knew that Clara would just smile and nod. And it was driving Bruce crazy.  
So he locked their lips together rather aggressively and held onto her hips. Even though they had been _‘Mr. Wayne and Mrs. Kent-Wayne’_ for five years, and had dated the five years before that, each kiss still felt like the first, still unpredictable and still exciting. 

When they broke away, he lost the black t-shirt quickly and returned to his wife, pulling her flush against himself. “For you, I’ll do anything, Kala,” he whispered against her lips and softly bowed his head until he was tenderly pressing kisses over her only scar. 

He was gentle, as if after all the roughness, he was afraid that she’d break now. But it didn’t matter to Clara. She felt like she was… cared for and cherished with Bruce’s occasional soft and tender behavior, as she knew he never showed that side of himself to anyone but his kids and Clara. And it was making her feel like she was floating, with her feet still on the ground.

After they broke again, Clara let Bruce take a breather for a few seconds, then she took off her shorts with super-speed and launched herself towards the water and shouted of an excited “Race ya!” over her shoulder.

She ran through the beach, leaving a trail of foot prints behind her, and finally leaped with a half-booming sound and dived inside the water gracefully.

Bruce watched her dive and laughed, took off his pants, leaving himself only in his black boxers, (seriously though, sometimes he was questioning why he had too many black clothing) then followed his wife to the ocean.

The water was surprisingly warm, the waves were calm like gentle caresses, and the evening breeze was licking through their skins, but Bruce still took his time until he was waist deep in the water. Clara patiently waited for him and when he came next to her, she just smiled blindingly, like she was trying to brighten the whole galaxy. And as always, it took Bruce’s breath away.

He pulled her against himself once more and whispered, “I have no idea what have I done to deserve you.”

Clara blushed, looked down shyly, snorted and smacked his chest lightly. “Shut up. We’re already married so you don’t have to _woo_ me, y’know?”

Bruce just smiled and kissed her cheek. Clara really looked radiant with her… everything –including that scar. In fact, it seemed like the scar made her even more beautiful, doing her the justice and making her look like the warrior she was, and Bruce seriously thought it shouldn’t even be possible. For a really, really small amount of time, he wondered if she was seeing him like that too. Then he let go of that thought, because even though Clara said otherwise, he knew he could never look whole in the mirror. He was damaged goods.

“Don’t you dare,” Clara said passionately and Bruce realized he had said it out loud. “Do not you dare, Bruce Wayne! You are incredibly strong, brave, noble, kind, intelligent and just… _beautiful._ God, if only you could see yourself the way I see you.”

She traced her fingers on the scars on his chest and he followed the gesture with his eyes. The scars shone silver under the bright full moon reflecting from the calm water of the ocean, and when they glowed like that… Bruce supposed they didn’t look that bad.

But it didn’t matter how they looked, Clara thought of them as beautiful, _him_ as beautiful, and maybe he was a little annoyed with himself -it wasn't the first time Clara called him _that_ \- though he couldn't help but beam. Maybe he was getting sappy in his old age, but he never felt more… _beautiful_ in his life before. The effect Clara had on him should be terrifying even after all these years but… _whatever._

So he kissed her again as they slowly descended into the water until it reached to their necks. When he pressed their foreheads together, Bruce wanted to say, _‘I don’t deserve you, nobody does. You’re too precious. I love you more that life itself. Kala, my Kala...’_ but he only managed a mumbled “I love you,” in a voice that only Superwoman could hear.

(If only he knew that he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t find the right words to say.)

Clara gently reached for him, pulled his head up and held his face between her hands. She smiled in a way that made his insides clench and made him uncontrollably smile as well, and whispered, “I love you too.”

(But who needed solid words when both of them could understand each other with just a simple look and a kiss.)

When it felt like it was just the two of them in the _whole goddamned planet,_ when it felt like he could lose himself in his wife’s strong arms, when it felt like he was having a hard time remembering _his own name_ through the night, who would give a _damn_ about the rest of the world?

Not the Batman. Well, at least not at the moment. 

And _most certainly not_ Bruce.

Yeah.

For that weekend and the next three days, he was just going to relax and have fun.

So it was _whatever for once,_ indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Shit, just… what have I done?


End file.
